


One Hundred Teeth and Twelve Bones

by heeroluva



Category: Naruto
Genre: Bittersweet, Body Horror, Body Modification, Canonical Character Death, Ghosts, Haunting, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Miscarriage, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 05:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12574276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: Orochimaru cannot lose another.





	One Hundred Teeth and Twelve Bones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mornelithe_falconsbane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mornelithe_falconsbane/gifts).



“You need to stop this.”

At the voice Orochimaru jumps, startled, the test tube he’d been working with slipping from his fingers and shattering on the floor as he falls into a fighting stance. Spinning around, he sends his chakra seeking, checks his wards, but finds nothing out of place. 

Looking down at the remnants of his work splattered on the ground, now ruined and worthless, thousands of hours of work gone, rages fills Orochimaru, and his arm lashes out, sweeping the equipment off the table with a horrible crash. There is no longer anything of use to him here. The destruction of the lab quickly follow, the fail safes easy to execute, fires consuming everything until there is nothing left. There is no satisfaction, only emptiness. 

Orochimaru needs a new approach. 

 

“This won’t bring me back.”

Orochimaru doesn’t bother searching for the origin of the voice anymore, doesn’t cry as he bleeds, another failure. 

 

“Is this worth it?”

For the first time there is movement within Orochimaru, but already he can feel this body failing. It’s far too soon, and so very late. 

Two days later, and Orochimaru must start again, and he swears that he’ll get it right this time. Reaching into the pocket of his robes, Orochimaru’s fingers curl around the pouch that he has safely concealed there, a pouch that contains one hundred teeth and twelve bones, the children that never take their first breath or open their eyes. He cannot lose another. 

 

“Do you miss me that much?”

Orochimaru’s stomach is huge, rippling with each contraction that tears through him, and at this moment, he wants nothing more than to cut the parasite out of him. But with the modifications done to his chakra system to ensure that he will carry to term, he can’t risk the stress to himself or the child. He cannot lose another.

 _It’s not about you,_ he wants to scream at the voice, wants it to stop asking questions that it already knows the answer to.

A new contraction sends a bolt of pain through Orochimaru’s body and tears a scream from his throat. After hours of increasing agony, Orochimaru would happily trade this for a session with Ibiki, and having no more pride left, cries as he begs, “Jiraiya, please.” 

Orochimaru had never responded to that voice before, never sought out the presence that he always feels close by, but Orochimaru had never been so terrified in his life.

Jiraiya doesn’t answer, but a warmth settles over him, and the pain diminishes slightly. It’s only minutes later when the cries of a baby split the air, and Orochimaru bundles him close. Orochimaru takes a moment to admire him, the thick white hair on his head causing his chest to tighten. “Our son is beautiful,” Orochimaru says to the empty room. He doesn’t want to put him down, but Orochimaru can feel this body failing, and it’ll be easier if he doesn’t wait. 

Slipping into another body has grown easier with time, but there is still a feeling of wrongness at first, like putting on a shirt that’s one size too small. Afterwards Orochimaru watches his son until he awakes.

 

“He’s the best of us.” 

“He is,” Orochimaru agrees, watching Mitsuki laugh and play in the streets below.

“You didn’t have to let him go.” 

Orochimaru shook his head. “He would have turned into me. I won’t let him walk this path.”

“You could come back.”

“To Konoha? No, it’s too late for me.” Orochimaru had considered it more than once, but he knew the outcomes, the chains that would shackle him, limit him. He could not live that life. 

There’s a pressure on Orochimaru’s hand, fingers wrapping around his. “It’s never too late.”

Orochimaru doesn’t look down, can’t stand to see nothing. “But it is.” Both for me, for you, and for us.


End file.
